


Old Wounds

by DunalN2



Series: Phantom Pains [1]
Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Phantom Pains AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22353046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DunalN2/pseuds/DunalN2
Summary: An evening of storytelling leads to an old bird sharing a bit of the fate of his grandchildren's parents.
Series: Phantom Pains [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1609051
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	Old Wounds

Of course this was happening today, of all days, with a new movie to shoot! Strix paced in cab of his train, his claws clicking on the polished steel floor nearly in sync with his cane. This was the absolute worst time for his grandchildren to be dumped off on him. "They're goin' ta get me carpets all roughed up again," he growls, absently kicking at the floor, "And just before me scripts have ta be turned in, no less! Aye, those no-good peck necks owe me anotha pint, they do…"

A soft beep sounds off from somewhere to his left. His crest perks just a bit at the sound, and he moves toward it, using his cane and the grooves he had etched into the ground to find his way to the brake, which he then pulls with a grunt. "I'll make sure they get me that pint…" he continues to grumble, turning around and heading to the car just behind the front cab of the train, nearly bumping into the door frame on his way. He kicks it in anger.

The owls on the train quiet their chatter as the dromaeosaur steps into the car. Several move back from the doors, both to give him space and a lesser chance of running into someone, and to avoid incurring his wrath. They all knew that look. It wasn't at all a good one. Even those who had a stop here wouldn't be getting up for a while, not until the conductor of the train had done what he needed to do.

Whoosh! The doors open, and to the owls' dismay, the dinosaur doesn't move. This could only mean one thing.

"Code Yellow," murmurs one to his friend.

"Think they're all getting on?" his friend mutters back, eyeing the train door nervously.

"Undoubtedly-"

"AYE! QUIT YER YAPPIN'!" The bark from the sand-colored bird gets most of the owls to wince. "THIS ISN'T ME NEXT MOVIE, SO KEEP YER BEAKS OUTTA IT!"

And then, finally, the dreaded noise that the whole train could collectively agree was the worst they could possibly hear, beating out even the bomb announcement when that little girl was starring in Strix' movies. Eight shrieking, barking, yipping voices build up over the hiss of steam from the engine, soon joined by the little demon spawn themselves, all flittering on in through the open car doors, ready to cause trouble. 

Thankfully, Strix was more than capable of controlling them. He spreads out his arms as soon as the first one comes close enough, his stiff feathers blocking the chick from running into the rest of the car. The chicks are trapped, saving the poor owls from having to guard their food and papers and bags from tiny grabby claws and sharp teeth.

"Oi! All a yeh! Yeh ain't ta terrorize me passengers, understand? Ye ain’t ta bother them.”  
The eldest salutes to him. “Yissir!” he chirps to his grandfather. The rest all chirp out something similar. With that, the old crow moves his arms, allowing the bouncy little birds to rush by him and scatter across the whole car. At least this time they didn’t immediately disobey him…

Back to the cab with the conductor, his tail nearly dragging on the floor. Already this is exhausting… Maybe when he gets home, he can-

“Grandpa!” There’s a tug on his tail feathers, and while the dinosaur lacks eyes, he still turns to look over his shoulder to let the kid know he’s listening. 

“Aye, Hyrunus…?”

“How long until we get to your home?”

The question honestly should have been expected, but for some reason Strix forgot they often asked how long it would be. He lets out a soft breath through his nose and holds out his hand to rub the little chick’s head, which is greeted with glee. “Not fer a while, laddie. I’ll tell yeh when we’re almost there, alright? I promise yeh.”

“Okay! Thank you!”

“Now go on, go tell yer siblin’s, they’ll want to know, too. I’ll even announce it over me speakers, aye?”

Hyrunus salutes, Strix can tell from the sudden click of claws on metal. “Yissir!” And then the little bird retreats.

Now… Time to get home.

  
  


“Hey, Grandpa?”

Strix hums, hunched over the high top counter in his little homestead, a tall mug of mead in one hand and a script in front of him on a small tablet. He pauses the automated voice reading his script back to him and takes a swig before turning to address the chick. 

“Aye, laddie?”

“Will you come tell us a story…?”

“A story?” They haven’t asked for him to tell a story in a while. “...I suppose I could tear meself away from me work. What sort of story did yeh have in mind, eh?” 

A tiny set of claws grip his finger, tugging and pulling him from the stool. He brings his mug with him. A bit of alcohol always made a story better, if he did say so himself.

“Kiru had an idea. She wants to tell you herself!”

“Alright, let’s see what yeh all got fer me.”

Right turn. Three paces. Left turn. Door frame. Mind the stopper. 

He seats himself down with the help of one of his grandchildren, crossing his legs and putting his cane in his lap. He hears a click to his right and turns his head to face it.

“What were Mom and Dad like?” Kiru asks, her tone soft as a grey cloud on a cold winter day.

Strix certainly hadn’t been expecting such a question. His feather crests raise, then fold back down against his neck. He coughs, clearing his throat of the lump that threatened to choke him. The children gathered around him are quiet, allowing him the time to come up with his answer.

“...Well,” he begins, doing his best to keep his voice even, “they were certainly good birds, lassie. Yer father served in the Great Bird War, yeh know. Brave soul, he was, strong as a mountain goat, big as a barn!” He raises his arms, emphasizing just how big his son-in-law was. “I could hardly get me arms around him sometimes! And yer mother, oh yer mother… She wasn’t one ta pick a fight with anyone, but gods have myercy on whoever decided to mess with her little chicks! She could paralyze a whole flock of penguins with just one look from her eyes!” He leans back, smiling to himself. “Aye, if only I had the eyes ta see her… I’m sure she was just as beautiful as all of yeh…”

“...What happened to them…?”

Ah. There it was. The question he was hoping they wouldn’t ask. With a heavy sigh, he puts his hands in his lap, his feathers flattened down once more. 

“...I suppose yeh all’re old enough ta know by now…” he mumbles softly, straightening himself up and doing his best to keep his composure.

“...They died protecting all a yeh. A robber broke into the house one night, only a few days after yeh all came home from the hospital. Yer father tried ta get ta his gun, but-” His voice catches in his throat. His breath hitches. He takes a moment before he continues on. 

“...They got ta him befer he could. Yer mother ran back ta yer room and barricaded herself with yeh. She was brave as an eagle that day, she was… When they broke through, she tried ta wrestle the gun from ‘em.”

There’s a long, sorrowful pause from the old dinosaur. A reassuring hand is placed on his knee. It gives him the courage to continue, despite the vivid memory in his mind.

It was as though he was there all over again. The faint beep of the hospital equipment. The sound of the respirator. The strong scent of cleaning agents and sterilizers. The doctors arguing out in the hall. He could almost feel her hand in his, squeezing one moment, and then lax the next. 

“...She couldn’t have made it,” he says more to himself than the chicks, voice cracking with the pain of the memory. “There wasn’t any way. She just lost too much…” 

There’s another moment of silence as he relives it over and over again in his head, listening to the voices crying out that they were losing her, losing his daughter, he tried to call over them to tell her to hang on, he had to get back in the room, he had to-

“Grandpa…?”

He’s snapped out of his thoughts, the voices and steady tone of her flatlined heart fading out of existence. He hadn’t noticed all the little chicks climbing up and over him, into his lap and arms to hug him. He sniffles, wings curling up around all eight of them, smiling despite his pain. 

“Ah, don’t worry about an old bird like me. I’ll be fine…” He gives each one of them a kiss on the head. 

“After all…” he begins putting them all to bed, making sure each one has their favorite toy in hand and a kiss on their noses, “I’m lucky ta have all a yeh. Each and every one a yeh is a blessing ta me. One I take fer granted too often.” 

He flicks off the light for them, stepping out of the room and returning to his spot at the kitchen counter. He gets himself a tissue and blows his nose. A smile spreads across his face, and he leans his head back. “...Yeh left me some good grandbabies, Yra… I wouldn’t trade this fer the world…”


End file.
